Gold Foil

Chapter Six: From the Shadows, the Puppet Masters Dwell

Long slender fingers drum against the table in front of him. Satoru glares down at it with a silent fury. If he takes the time to ponder, he can't really label the exact emotions that he's feeling. There's the rolling and aching pain that sinks its teeth into his heart and there's also regret and guilt that manage to worm their way into his subconscious. Satoru would rather strike out with anger rather than properly sort through his emotions.

He's never been good with dealing with any sort of emotions. These darker ones are certainly no expectation.

Sighing heavily, Satoru leans back against the sofa and runs a hand through his damp hair, sending a couple of stray droplets to roll down his hand and disappear into the cuff of his sweatshirt.

"You can't hide forever." Ieiri looks over her mug of coffee at him with an unimpressed expression. "Running away just because of a small argument isn't like you, Gojou."

"I'm not running away."

"Then what would you call this?" She leans forward, placing her coffee down and gives him her undivided attention. Satoru shifts in his seat and wishes that he had the foresight to buy replacement shades for his broken ones. The shattered glasses are still on his person like some sort of testament that that night wasn't just a nightmare.

"I'd call this an impromptu visit with my good friend!"

Ieiri snorts. "Right, of course. I'd certainly call it impromptu given the fact it's almost one in the morning." She grumbles, giving him a half hearted glare.

"Aw, c'mon, you love me." Satoru gives her a lopsided grin, earning an eye roll from her.

"I wouldn't go that far. You're on thin ice."

They fall silent and Satoru, for once, isn't interested in breaking the silence. Instead, he keeps himself busy by twisting his wedding band around and around, transfixed by the silver gleam against the light. He may be far too late to realize but it dawns on him exactly how big of a hole he dug for himself.

"He hates me." Satoru speaks so suddenly that it throws even himself off guard. He stares at his shaking hands before he glances up at Ieiri, ignoring how his eyes begin to sting. "He said he'd rather die than-" He forces himself to stop, not wanting to finish the sentence. Satoru isn't even sure if he could finish the sentence if he wanted to, his voice cracks and his throat closes.

Is he truly that horrible to be married to?

It hurts so much because- "I love him." Satoru finishes his thought out loud without realizing. Fabric rustles and he's enveloped in a tight hug. He clings to Ieiri like she's his only life support. Burying his face against her shoulder, he lets out a choked sob.

"I love him." He repeats once more in a haggard whisper. "I love him so bad."

Satoru stares up at the darkened ceiling of Ieiri's living room. It's a couple of hours after he arrived at her doorstep in a mess of confusion and hurt. It's been just an hour after he had broken down in front of her for the first time and now he's facing the backlash of crippling embarrassment from that particular feat.

He's Gojou Satoru. He's supposed to be strong and unfeeling. To cry in the presence of someone else is enough to take his ego down a couple of pegs and he wishes he could just go back in time and stop himself from doing that. He's not sure if he could look her in the eyes in the morning. With a groan, he presses the heels of his palms against his eyes and forces himself to put aside those thoughts.

He'll just forge on and pretend that nothing happened. Satoru knows that Ieiri will be kind enough to play along and save the remaining shreds of his dignity.